Summer is Overrated
by Damn Regret
Summary: Hermione and her crush plan to meet on an island for the rest of summer, but she arrives early. What happens when a certain Slytherin is on the beach as well...and they have fun? What will Harry think of it when he arrives? [adopted from MysticalSpirits]
1. Way Too Early

**Summer is Overrated  
**first 3 chapters by Mystical Spirits

* * *

**Chapter 1:  
Way Too Early**

**I**t was an extraordinarily windy day. It was near sunset, actually, and Hermione Granger was about to witness it. The wind caused numerous large waves that slammed against the shore and the nearby rocks.

Not many people were out watching the waves with Hermione on the beach. After all, this island was small and unplottable, so not many knew about it. Hermione observed the people around her. There was an elderly couple, the man's arm around the woman's waist as they stood away from the putrid seaweed. There was a man with a video camera filming his children's newly finished sandcastle. The last two people were lovers, both young, but not as young as a teenager. The duo sat on a large rock together, the female leaning back against the male's chest as he held her close.

Watching this, Hermione wished she were loved. Yes, romance was what she was thinking about the entire time she sat on that low, small rock, staring at the golden horizon. She wasn't thinking about the moon's affects on the tide or something along those lines, as everyone at Hogwarts would've expected.

She was lonely. Not many people would understand that. After all, she had her books, and they were her best friends, the only things that never failed her. But she wanted more. She wanted love, even if she knew it probably wouldn't be coming soon, so she settled for the best thing: her friends, both books and people.

She had a lot of friends, even if she was a bookworm and constantly teased about it. She had her roommates, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. She had her older friends, Hagrid, Lupin, and perhaps even Dumbledore was classified as a friend. She had friends from other houses, from Susan Bones of Hufflepuff to Mandy Brocklehurst of Ravenclaw, and from Morag MacDougal of Ravenclaw to Sally-Anne Perks of Hufflepuff.

She had Tom from the Leaky Cauldron, Sarah, a bookseller at Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Rosmerta from Three Broomsticks. She had Dobby and Winky, Crookshanks (still at home with her parents), Hedwig, Pig, Errol, and so much more.

She had the entire Weasley family: Ron (obviously), Ginny (her best girl friend), Fred and George (who could live without their pranks?), Percy (he was just like Hermione in a way), Charlie (dragons are fascinating!), Bill (hard core!), Mr. and Mrs. Weasley (who treated her just like family, as well as asking about Muggles every few seconds), and even Kreacher (but he stayed away from the family most of the time).

And then she had Harry.

Harry.

He was Hermione's best friend, her ticket to somewhat popularity. Sure, popularity didn't matter, even if it resulted in all those friends, but ever since she read about Harry in MODERN MAGICAL HISTORY during the summer when she was nearly eleven, she knew that he was special. Well, of course he was special, the entire magical world knew that. But Hermione knew he was special in another way, not in the way everyone else saw him, the savior and Voldemort's destroyer. She thought more highly of him, and probably more preferable to him as well.

She admitted to herself that she had more than friendly feelings for him ever since she first laid eyes on her best friend, and she didn't mean Ron. She loved Harry dearly, but in a friendly way. She wasn't sure what her feelings for him were exactly (less than love but more than a crush), but she knew she cared deeply for him. She wanted to impress him, which was the reason why she studied so hard, and she wanted him to be happy, the reason why she praised him and helped him as much as she could without spoiling him.

The sad thing was that Harry probably didn't have any feelings in the romance department whatsoever for Hermione (even if he occasionally flirted with her, but Hermione thought he was just teasing her all those times). So she did the only thing she could do.

She gave up on him.

She gave up, but she still had those feelings. But she stopped overworking herself, following him around (not in the stalking way though, mind you), and trying to get him to like her. She was fairer to Ron (praising him as well as Harry), she spent more time with girls nowadays, and she barely daydreamed about him anymore.

Until now.

She had invited Harry, Ginny, and Ron to stay with her at her beach house on Carthos Island while her parents stayed back home in London, but only Harry was able to come. Ron and Ginny went on vacation to visit Charlie in Romania, and the Dursley's were forced by the Order (now having nothing to do all summer, now that Voldemort was gone) to let Harry go after one month into the holidays.

Hermione, wanting to have more free time to herself, asked her parents if she could arrive at the beach a week earlier than she planned to meet Harry, and they, seeing as they were going to be busy all summer at their dentist's office, dropped her off about an hour before she sat on that rock, watching the sun set.

Hermione wasn't necessarily daydreaming about Harry, but she was thinking about him. She was thinking about how much pain she felt when he took an interest in Cho Chang, who was now one of her good friends even though she wasn't at Hogwarts anymore. It hurt her a lot to find out that he kissed her back in Fifth Year, but she felt slightly relieved when he told her he wasn't seeing her anymore, or at all, really. Cho had also told her that she felt terrible for treating Harry like that, even if it was really he who kissed her, and the only reason she really took interest in him was because Cedric had died.

Hermione sighed. She looked at the beach's other occupants before her, the wind blowing her hair gracefully around her face and the smell of saltwater lingering around her nose. The man with the camera and his children were already gone, the sandcastle still standing and forgotten. The couples remained on the beach, watching the slowly yet noticeably setting sun.

The ball of fire was half down by now, and it was easy to stare at without being blinded. The sun was a sliver of orange disappearing behind the gray ocean line. It soon looked fuzzy, and its outline was uneven. The bright orb was gone completely in a matter of seconds, but the purple and pink horizon remained, clashing against the sun's golden shine.

Both couples headed inside now, for the sun was gone and it was getting colder. Hermione's fingers were numb as she clutched her sweatshirt-covered arms tightly. She inwardly cursed herself for forgetting to bring her hair ribbon; her soft curls blew into her large chestnut eyes. She wanted to push them away, but that required her fingers, which were, at the moment, frozen because of the lack of gloves or any protection from the cold.

Hermione was alone on the beach now.

Or so she thought.

A large warm jacket covered Hermione's freezing shoulders. She looked up, startled. She turned quickly to look at the person who gave her the jacket.

_Oh no_, she thought, _not him!_

But instead of actually saying something, she just stared at the person.

And he smiled.

"Sorry," he said to her, shrugging. "I just came out here for a while and saw you by yourself." Another shrug. "You seemed cold."

Hermione clutched the jacket and stared at him.

_How can he be here? How can both of us know about this island?_

"Why are you helping me?" she asked, still astonished.

He shrugged (yet again). "I wanted to. I know it's a bit strange having a random person walk up to you and give you his jacket, but we're the only one's on the beach, and I was hoping for some company."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. _He doesn't recognize me?_

"Company?"

The teenager shoved his hands in his pockets. "I…I've never been here before, and I…I need a guide and someone to talk to on this island. I guess you just kind of looked close to my age, so I decided to try and talk to you."

"Oh."

There was a few seconds of silence.

The young man cleared his throat. "Um…I know this conversation must be a bit awkward, but…can I sit down?"

Hermione looked up into his stormy eyes. She nodded. "Sure." She scooted a bit on the rock to give him room to sit. Then she looked back down at her feet.

_Why is he being so nice? Why doesn't he know who I am? Why is he even here?_

The male sighed. "Don't you even want to know my name?"

Hermione remained silent for a second. She knew she shouldn't say this, but she knew she wasn't going to get anywhere if she pretended she had no idea what he was talking about. "I already know your name."

The man stared, his eyes widening. "You know my name?"

Hermione nodded, not looking at him. "Your name…your name is Draco Malfoy."

**D**raco stared.

How did she know his name?

He definitely didn't know her; he would've remembered a girl like that.

She was a very pretty girl, another reason why he chose to talk to her. Her figure was hiding under her bundles of clothes, but Draco knew that didn't matter anyway. She was a beautiful girl, and he knew that when he first saw her, sitting on this very rock, that she was deep in thought and her eyes glazed over, showing that she was observant and intelligent.

He wasn't lying before either. He really didn't know anyone on this island, let alone know where everything was. He needed someone who did know all of that, someone who could show him around. He didn't know if this girl was that someone, but he could take a chance, right? She had her own story, and maybe he could be in a part of it. As soon as she said his name, he knew he already was.

"How…" he started, "…how did you…"

The girl shook her head. "I assure you, Malfoy, you don't want to know."

He looked at her questionably. "Malfoy? I don't know who you are, but you're already calling me by my surname."

The young girl sighed. "You know who I am-"

"No, I really don't."

She glared. "I wasn't finished. You know who I am, but you don't know that I am that person."

Draco was clueless. "Huh?"

"Basically, if I told you my name, you'd know who I am."

"And you won't tell me who you are because…"

The girl smiled. "Guess."

Draco was alarmed. "Guess? The reason or who you are?"

"Who I am."

"Well…give me a clue."

"Hmmm…" the girl started, obviously thinking about a good clue that wouldn't give herself away. She made sure no one else was on the beach, making sure it was safe to say the next part. "Well…I go to your school."

"Hogwarts? …What house?" Draco asked, running a hand through his hair (not gelled back, just as he like it).

The girl rolled her eyes. "I can't tell you _that_! It'd give me away! But I'll tell you something: I'm not in Hufflepuff."

Draco guessed that. She didn't seem like the Hufflepuff type. In his opinion, Hufflepuffs were all stupid, most of them well fed and naïve. She seemed smart, and, although she definitely had no eating disorders, she wasn't even close to being overweight.

"Well…how about you answer all my 'yes or no' questions?"

The girl sighed, "Fine."

Draco smiled. "Okay, then. Are you in Ravenclaw?"

The girl glared at him humorously. She was obviously not mad about what he just said, but amused. "That's cheating!"

Draco shrugged. "Well, you said you'd answer me."

"Whatever."

"So…are you?"

"In Ravenclaw? No!"

Draco thought. She was definitely not a Slytherin, that was for sure. He knew everyone in Slytherin, girl or boy, no matter what year they were in.

"Okay, then, are you in Gryffindor?"

The girl was silent for a few seconds. "So what if I am?" she asked quietly. Draco looked at the girl. She seemed scared of him, scared of what he would do now that he knew she was in his most hated house.

"Look, I'm not going to do anything to you, alright?" he tried to reassure her. "I guess…" Draco thought. He needed someone to show him around the island. He couldn't offend this girl. Maybe he could kind of suck up to her until he found out who she was. Maybe he could just be nice to her for a change (seeing as he knew he was probably mean to her at some point; he was mean to all Gryffindors). Maybe he could drop his image now that he was on an unknown island and be a regular, non-hated person for once. "…I guess Gryffindor's not really all that bad."

The girl stared at him with shock. Draco knew he surprised her with his answer, he being the prince of Slytherin and all.

Draco smiled and shook his head. "Can I keep guessing now?" he whined, teasing her.

The girl's lips turned upwards. She chuckled silently. "Yeah, whatever."

Draco grinned. He was already on her good side. "Okay…are you in my year?"

"With these questions, you'll know who I am in two minutes."

"That's the point, and if you're a good girl and answer my questions, I'll figure it out sooner."

The young woman laughed heartily, but softly. "Then, yes, I'm in your year."

It was all up to guessing now.

"Um…Patil?"

"No, and you weren't being specific. There's two Patil girls, smart one."

"Let's see…"

Draco studied the girl's features closely. Her skin was creamy, her brown hair wonderfully curly and shiny. Her nose was cute and delicate, and her teeth were small and straight. Like he noticed before, her curves couldn't be seen because she was bundled up. Her clothes were warm and casual, nothing extremely expensive or stylish. This broke things down a bit. Who was a Gryffindor in his year who didn't necessarily dress in fashionable and "in" clothing? Not the Patil girl, so that left two candidates: Brown and…

"Granger?"

The girl looked down, her smile gone from her face. Draco could tell that she was getting uncomfortable as an awkward silence filled the air and added to the tension for a short while.

Draco had to admit that he was shocked. He didn't really expect this girl to be Granger. She looked very different, but he knew one month away from everyone could change someone's looks a bit. Now that he thought about it, she did kind of look the same. But Draco was still surprised. Just seconds ago he didn't recognize Granger and was joking with her. He was actually being nice to her.

_And why not?_ a voice in his head thought. _There's nothing wrong with her. You fought alongside her in the war, didn't you? She didn't really do anything, besides going to Gryffindor and befriending your greatest enemy._

Draco supposed the voice was right. He really didn't have anything against Granger. The only reason he was mean to her was because he was raised to hate Muggleborns, Gryffindors, and anyone associating with Potter. It wouldn't hurt to be nice, he guessed, since his father died at war and his mother didn't really care how he acted and who he talked to. As long as he fixed up his image before he went back to Hogwarts.

But even if Granger was to be civil to him, he knew it would still be hard to accept that she didn't do anything to him. Well, besides slap him in Third Year and all that. But he was so used to being mean, he knew the best he could do was a joke every now and then, just like he did to the "stranger" before. But the most he could do was try. He still needed a guide at Carthos Island.

"Granger?" Draco said more than asked. He wasn't asking if he was right this time. His tone was different. It was a tone of…concern? No, not concern. He was trying to be nice and all, but he wasn't concerned for Granger. He was just trying to make a better impression.

He placed a hand on Granger's shoulder in a comforting way. She just studied the footprints and dog prints in the sand.

"What are you going to do to me?"

Draco was confused. "Huh?"

Granger looked up at him. "Aren't you going to call me 'Mudblood' or run away or insult me about my 'germs' on your jacket now?"

"No," Draco said. He mentally smiled at the shocked look on Granger's face. "Like I said before, I need someone to show me around the island and someone to talk to. I know we have a…hateful past, but maybe we can just be…civil for a while, you know, until I get to know Carthos Island better." He stuck out his hand. "What do you say, Granger? Truce?"

**H**ermione stared at Malfoy's hand. What should she say? His request sounded reasonable, but…what would happen when Saturday came, bringing Harry along? Well, Malfoy would get bored of her by then, wouldn't he? By the time Harry came around, he'd be gone, right?

Thinking this, Hermione was worried. When Harry came, what would he do when he found out Draco Malfoy was here on the island with them? It was a small island, and there was a good chance they would see each other a few times before they had to leave for school.

She shrugged it off. She could just tell Harry to ignore him. He would do that for her…or at least…she hoped so.

Hermione took Malfoy's hand and shook it. "Truce."

Malfoy dropped his hand and smirked.

"You _do_ know the island, right?"

"I know where everything is if that's what you mean."

Malfoy nodded.

"But I'll only have a truce with you on three conditions," Hermione continued.

"Conditions?"

"Yes." Hermione pushed her hair back, got fed up with it, and pulled the hood on Malfoy's jacket over her head so her hair wouldn't fly. "Number One: You can't call me a Mudblood or any of those other evil names you love to call me. And no insulting me like hell unless it's meant to be humorous for the both of us."

Malfoy shook his head. "I get it, but that sounds like two different conditions to me."

"They're related, Malfoy. Number Two: You don't tell anyone about us seeing each other here, let alone being civil to each other."

Malfoy interrupted again, "Do you care so much?"

"It's not that, Malfoy," Hermione said. "It's just that there are some people out there who respect me, and I don't want to lose that respect. Also, Harry's coming next Saturday, so you don't tell him about this, okay?"

"Potter's coming?" Malfoy exclaimed and questioned at the same time. "What am I supposed to do when he gets here?"

Hermione sighed, frustrated. "I don't know! Maybe you'll meet someone else before then. Who knows? Anyway, Number Three is: You have to tell me what you're doing here."

Malfoy groaned. "Do I have to?"

"Don't whine. And, yes, it's a condition."

"Now?"

"Now."

"Fine." Malfoy picked up a small rock and threw it at a nearby sea anemone, causing it to squirt a small trail of water.

Hermione held his arm back from throwing another one. "Don't do that! Not only is it disgusting seeing a sea creature barf water, it's cruel treatment! Now, tell me your story."

"Okay, okay!" Malfoy rolled his eyes, which didn't go unnoticed by Hermione. "I guess it all started back during the war."

"Malfoy, that was five months ago."

"Yeah, well, my father died during it."

Hermione frowned and blushed.

"Don't get me wrong, Granger, I'm glad he died."

Hermione looked up. "Why?"

Malfoy sighed. This was going to take a while. "He beat my mum on a weekly basis." Hermione noticed Malfoy ignore the gasp she let out.

"Malfoy! That's serious! Why didn't you tell anybody?"

"I tried. My mum wouldn't let me tell, and when Father found out I wanted to get him caught, he threatened to beat my mum again, not without reassuring me that no one would believe me anyway. That's why I fought on the light side during the war. My father didn't exactly make a good impression on me.

"He would beat Mum when she did something wrong or when I did something wrong. He would always take it out on her. I wasn't allowed to cry, I couldn't play with anyone unless their parents were Death Eaters, and if I refused being anointed as a Death Eater, she would be beaten for raising an imperfect child like me. That's why I acted as if I wanted to be a Death Eater at school. No one was about to tell my father how I really felt about it; most feared me, just as he wanted.

"Now that my father's dead, I inherited fifty percent of his money (the other half went to my mum) and me and Mum are free from him."

"How does this explain why you're here?" Hermione asked quietly. She was still shocked from gaining the knowledge of her enemy's horrible past.

Malfoy continued. "I don't know why, but Mum still loved Father, even if he always beat her. I know she hated it when he did that, but I guess she thought the Dark Lord was possessing him or something. Anyway, Mum's been so depressed lately, always locking herself in a room and staring blankly at a wall all day. Obviously, I was worried for her, so I called a therapy nurse at St. Mungos for her.

"I thought this nurse would be good for Mum, and she was. Mum is actually coming out of her room now, even if she won't go outside. She's happy. So happy, she won't even bother talking to me. Before I would just go in her room and let her talk about things with me, but now she just talks with this nurse and spending time to herself. She doesn't have time for me anymore, even if she doesn't really do anything.

"And as for the nurse, she hates me. She doesn't do anything bad to me, but she's always growling at me to leave my mum to rest or lay down and glaring at me when I try to help her. She says it's her job, not mine. Basically, I wasn't allowed to do anything. I wasn't allowed to go outside, either. I couldn't play Quidditch or go visit people. All I could do was sit in my room and be quiet.

"Which is why I'm here right now. I wrote a note to Mum to let her know I'm here on this island, but knowing her, she won't notice I'm gone and the nurse probably threw away my letter and pretended she had no idea where I went anyway."

Hermione stared at him. "You ran away."

"I did. It sounds like a kid thing, you know, the child always being angry at a guardian so they run away for a while before turning back. But not me. I'm not going back. I brought all my school stuff, and I still plan to go to Diagon Alley before heading back to Hogwarts."

"But, Malfoy," Hermione protested, "why not just go to Diagon Alley in the first place?"

Malfoy sighed. "I wanted alone time, time to just relax, forget my image, forget magic for a while. That's why I went to this Muggle place instead of some magical place. Also, the more people I saw who knew who I was would want to know what I'm doing or make trouble for me and stuff."

Hermione nodded. "I understand, Malfoy. I'm just not really sure what to say."

Malfoy sighed. "Why don't you say that those are the only three conditions for me to walk around with you for the next week," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Hermione smiled. "Those are the only three conditions for you to walk around with me for the next week."

"Glad to hear it. Now, if you don't mind, I'm freezing and it's totally dark. I want to go inside."

Hermione smiled. "Alright." She removed Malfoy's jacket, instantly regretting it when she felt the chills coming back to her.

Malfoy stood up. "Keep it, Granger. Just give it back to me tomorrow."

Hermione gratefully nodded, putting it back on before standing up as well. "Thanks." She furrowed her eyebrows as they walked back up to the streets together. "Um…Malfoy?" She waited for his nod before continuing. "Where are you staying?"

He smirked. "I just got my father's money! Duh! I'm staying at the Sunbeam Inn."

Hermione gaped. "The Sunbeam Inn? That's really expensive! I heard the rooms are really nice."

"They are. How about you? Where are you staying?"

Hermione grinned. "I have a beach house here. I'm staying alone there until Harry comes."

Malfoy groaned. "I can't wait."

Hermione laughed out loud. "Bye, Malfoy. My beach house is the opposite way from the Inn. I'll see you tomorrow."

As se turned to leave, Malfoy called out to her. "Granger? No need to press you, but how am I going to find you tomorrow?"

Hermione grinned. "Whoops! Do you know where the aquarium is?"

"I've got a map in my room."

"Good. Then I'll meet you there at ten." And with that, Hermione walked away in the darkness. "And Malfoy? Thanks again for the jacket!"

When Hermione opened the door to her beach house, she immediately ran to her room and flopped on the bed. She thought about what happened since she decided to watch the sun set on the beach. Romantic? What was she thinking? The next time she scheduled to meet a friend somewhere, she would wait until the day they planned to meet to arrive.

Today she arrived way too early.

* * *

**Disclaimer:  
**Don't own HP or the plot -- first three chapters written by **MysticalSpirits**.

**A/N:**  
This story is adopted from **MysticalSpirits**, but I'll be continuing it from now on, although she'll be putting in her ideas into this fic.


	2. The Aquarium

**Summer is Overrated  
**first 3 chapters by Mystical Spirits

* * *

**Chapter 2:  
The Aquarium**

**T**he next morning was clear and sunny, much warmer than it was the night before. It was a beautiful day, and Hermione was looking quite forward to it, even if it meant going to the aquarium with her best friend's archenemy. The trouble was, Hermione slept in, which was very unlikely for her. When she woke up and looked at her digital clock on her nightstand, she found that not only did she oversleep, but it was already past 10:00, the time she was to meet Malfoy.

She yelped and jumped out of bed. She knew it was way too late to take even the quickest shower, so she decided to just take one when she got home. She quickly tossed on a white spaghetti-strap tank top that slightly exposed her flat stomach, black sweatpants with white streaks on the sides, and white flip flops. She ran a brush through her tangled hair until it lay in soft curls once more and tied it up (she didn't want a repeat of her flying hair like yesterday) with a white ribbon.

She put on no makeup (why would she have the urge to look nice for Malfoy?), but she packed a small tube of lip gloss (and an extra hair ribbon) in her small white bag. She slung the bag over her head so it crossed over to the other side of her body, making it less possible for someone to steal it.

She wrapped Malfoy's borrowed jacket around her waist, the dark green color not even looking out of place with her black and white clothes. Slapping on scentless sunscreen, Hermione grabbed her red and gold bike and helmet (she brought along a lot of her sporting gear with her on the trip in case there was nothing to do) before running out the door with it. She fumbled with the keys a bit before finally locking it and shoving them in her pocket.

She jumped on her bike, helmet secured on her head, and rode off as fast as she could (which was pretty fast) to the nearby aquarium.

She saw Malfoy's bright hair from down the street, so she rode over quickly to him. She dodged a few people (there wasn't a biking lane) before skidding to a stop in front of him.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologized to a shocked-looking Malfoy. _Of course,_ Hermione thought_. Hermione Granger being late? And riding a bike as fast as possible through busy streets?_ Well, the streets weren't all that busy. It was an unplottable island, after all, although there were still enough people to make a population number on a sign. But Hermione knew that Malfoy was still surprised at seeing a bookworm like her into fun and action, let alone wearing clothes like these rather than the usual baggy shapeless blobs.

Malfoy spoke up, "Yeah, twenty minutes late."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, sorry! I _woke up_ twenty minutes ago, so be proud of me."

Malfoy shrugged. "Whatever. Can we just go inside now?" Hermione noted that his voice was unlike the civil voice he used last night, but similar to the one he used during classes: dull, bored, and uncaring.

"Hold your horses, Ferret Face," Hermione teased, a hint of leftover malice in her voice (even after a truce, she couldn't have forgiven him for everything so quickly). "I still have to put my bike away, and, in case you didn't know, we have to show them our passes first."

"Fine," Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Wake me up when you're done."

Hermione slapped his arm. "I just lock it up in those bike stands, Malfoy," she said, pointing. "Don't you know what a bike is?"

"Of course I do," Malfoy protested. "I took Muggle Studies ("Shut up!" Hermione hissed, looking at passing Muggles). I just don't know those specifics. I'm not going to be riding a whatever-it-is very soon or anything."

"Whatever, Malfoy," Hermione rolled her bike to the stands, locking it up quickly so not to get yelled at by him for being so slow. She dug a hand in her casual-looking bag and snatched up two passes into the aquarium. One was for Harry, but he could still get in with it later.

Suddenly remembering something, she unwrapped Malfoy's jacket from her waist and tossed it at him. "Here, Ferret."

"Thanks," Malfoy murmured, looking down.

Hermione stared. _A Malfoy thanking someone, let alone me?_ she thought, raising an eyebrow. But she said nothing of it, as they did have a sort of truce, and shook her head.

"Before we go in, I have a question," said Malfoy, not at all oblivious to Hermione's confusion. "First off, if this is such an unknown island, why is there an aquarium with exotic fish?"

"It doesn't have _exotic_ fish," Hermione explained, "and just because this island isn't that popular doesn't mean people don't come here. And this is just a miniature sized aquarium, not as big as the ones they have by bays and stuff."

"Alright…" Malfoy said, "…but why buy passes if you don't exactly come here often?"

"Who says I don't come here often?" asked Hermione. "And I actually bought these passes because it lets you come in the aquarium three times. I was planning on going with some friends and once with Harry, but I'm spending a third of these passes taking you here, so don't complain."

"Uh huh…" Malfoy replied. He didn't seem to really care, but at least she proved she could answer pretty much everything. "Now can we go in?"

"Be patient, Malfoy, we're going!"

The duo flashed their passes and got them marked off (to show that they'd used their passes once) before walking through two large glass doors.

As soon as they walked in, Hermione looked at Malfoy's face. He didn't seem all that excited yet, but that was mainly because there was a huge staircase blocking their view from any fish so far.

The two walked past the right side of the stairs, and as soon as the fish came into view, Hermione noticed the change of expression shown on her companion's face: he didn't quite look surprised, but definitelynot excited (what was she thinking, a Malfoy being excited?).

"C'mon, Malfoy." Hermione groaned, dragging him to the first section: Sea Otters.

There was a huge glass tank that contained five sea otters, plants from the ocean (for a natural habitat), and small fish (ones that the otters _wouldn't _eat). There were stairs leading up to above the water level so viewers could watch them when they were floating on their backs or lying in the sun. There was a small, empty, plastic pool with colorful shapes decorating it (Muggles would use them for small children) on the dry area, an otter with a white streak on its belly sniffing it interestingly.

Hermione loved the otters; they were her favorite. A huge smile was plastered on her face as she grabbed Malfoy's arm and ran up the stairs.

When she was up there, she watched two otters playing (was it playing?) together. An otter with white specks on its nose was trying to float on its back, but the all-black one was pushing him, trying to make him turn over.

Hermione giggled softly, earning a glance from Malfoy. She rolled her eyes and pointed for him to look at what she was.

"Otters trying to kill each other," said Malfoy sarcastically, but finally with relaxed emotion this time. "This _is_ exciting!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione smiled, shoving him gently. "They're _so_ cute!" she sighed, talking to herself more than Malfoy.

"Yeah," he replied sarcastically, "they're adorable."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "Shut up!" She looked at the plaque she was leaning on and read it to herself:

_"HOW DO OTTERS SPEND THE DAY? Our sea otters spend most of their time grooming, eating, and sleeping. You might also see them diving to explore the exhibit to find food tucked into rocks."_

Hermione chuckled. Malfoy stared at her.

"What?"

Hermione pointed as her accomplice leaned over to read it. "It kind of sounds like you!" She kept laughing as he scanned his eyes over the words.

"Excuse me? That _does not_ sound like me!"

Hermione chortled, "Yeah right! Grooming and being lazy the rest of the time? Of course it sounds like you!"

Malfoy made a face. "Yeah, and who got here late today?"

"Shut up! Besides, the last sentence reminds me of Ron."

Malfoy looked at her. "Weasley?"

"Yeah, I mean, he's always looking for food."

This made Malfoy smirk. Hermione slapped his arm when she heard him mutter, "Pig."

"That's mean, Malfoy! That's his owl." Hermione muttered the last part of her statement sarcastically, hinting that he was outside of an inside joke. Like she expected, stares of confusion came from Malfoy. "After all," she continued, "at least he's not _a relative_ of an otter!"

Malfoy paused. "What?"

"Yeah, he's no ferret like _some_ people."

He mocked confusion. "Ferrets are relatives to sea otters?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, but you sure look like one!"

Malfoy smirked. "Hey, didn't you say that the otters looked '_so_ cute' a while ago?"

"I meant _those_ sea otters, not ferret faces."

Malfoy smirked conceitedly. "Aww…c'mon, Granger. Don't deny it. I know you can't resist the 'Malfoy Charm.'"

Hermione stared and raised an eyebrow, faking disbelief. "The what?"

"You know, Granger," he replied. "The 'Malfoy Charm'! Everyone knows Malfoy's are irresistible!"

Hermione put her hand on her hip. "I'm sure."

She hated to admit it, but he was kind of right. She never even thought of having a thing for Malfoy, but Lavender, Parvati, and Ginny would always fantasize about him and say how "hot" they thought he was. It was all really sickening to Hermione, really. She would always stare at Ginny in shock when she would say Malfoy was a looker. She couldn't imagine her red-haired friend would even consider betraying Ron and Harry like that, so she kept her mouth shut about Malfoy when her male friends were around, not like she agreed with the girls or anything.

Hermione turned toward the otters again and admired them for a few minutes (with surprisingly no comments from Malfoy).

She named the otters silently in her head. The one with white specks on its nose was Ron (the specks were freckles in a way) and the all brown one was Ginny, who would always tease her brothers for being lazy. There were two brown otters that swam around together the whole time, one named Harry and the other, Hermione, for obvious reasons. And the last one, the one that just waddled its way into the pool being its lazy self, got a name too. Hermione inwardly rolled her eyes.

_Malfoy._

**A**fter Granger had finally forced herself to move away from the otters, the two moved on to a particularly boring looking fish, in Draco's opinion. Nevertheless, he was dragged to this huge tank, and although there were other fish that were far more interesting to look at, Granger brought him to the side of the tank where the same boring types of fish swam around.This particular fish was called a Black Surfperch, for some reason, although it wasn't black at all, except for a few stripes here and there.

Draco turned to look at Granger, who was, at the moment, studying the fish like the bookworm she was, although he thought he saw a hint of boredom from her as well.

Turning back to the tank, he looked down to the plaque so he wouldn't have to look at the ugly fish:

_"BLACK SURFPERCH: a jack of all trades, the Black Surfperch doesn't choose one lifestyle, but lives in many different environments, eating everything from worms to other fishes' parasites."_

"Hey, Granger," Draco acknowledged the girl, bringing her out of her pointless fish-studying, "this thing's just like Weasley, isn't it?"

Granger first glared at him for stealing her idea of renaming fish as people they knew, but then she quickly read over the description, finding herself smiling at the end of it.

"If you mean that Ron eats a lot, I think that was explained in the otter section."

Draco smirked. "That, and how he '_doesn't choose one lifestyle_'. First he lives in that lump of a home, then at the fancy castle--"

"Malfoy!" Granger glared disapprovingly. "He didn't exactly _choose_ to be living the way he does--"

"Uggh, Granger, don't even start."

"Don't start what?" she glared again. "You're not one to make fun of my friends!"

Draco shook his head. "Now, now, poking fun at your 'friends' wasn't one of your conditions, so I think I can get away with it."

Granger opened her mouth to say something, but to Draco's delight, she had nothing to say. It was very amusing to him to see the bookworm speechless. Finally, she closed her mouth, aware that she was looking quite like the Black Surfperch itself with her mouth's movement, and she rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," she sighed. "This argument's not worth wasting time over."

Draco smirked. "That's more like it." He pointed to another plaque. "Besides, I think _this_ fish is _you_."

"_What_?" Granger turned to read the description of the Sailfin Sculpin. "' _Instead of attracting attention, the rippling fin blends in with the algae-covered rocks._' What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Draco chuckled. "Simple! That you keep to yourself and blend in at the library."

Granger sarcastically acted insulted and retaliated. "Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy, but I believe _this_ one is _you_!"

"'_To deceive prey, these fish put on a great act. They hang motionless above rocky reefs, ready to snap up fishes that venture too close._' Oh, yeah, Granger, that's me! The Canary Rockfish, eh? Attractive."

Granger grinned wider. "Hey, it's not _my_ fault that you act all innocent and freak people out!"

Draco finally let out his first real smile. "Oh yeah, Granger?" he challenged. "Well, I'm sure there's loads more fish in this place that are like you than me!"

"You wanna bet?" Granger laughed. "Then this means war!"

**A** few hours later, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger exited the aquarium, laughing. If Harry had showed up at this time, he would've dropped down in a faint. After just two days in a row of seeing each other, two enemies were _laughing_ together as if there was never a hate between them.

However, both knew that there was still a twinge of dislike for the other, but it was strange what a whole day could do to you, even when your only companion was one you barely liked.

Both teenagers thought it was a bit odd that they eventually got along that day, but they shrugged off the fact and, dare it be said, enjoyed each other's company as much as they could.

And at this particular moment, the two were having as much fun as two enemies could have after spending the day together.

"No, no, no," Hermione argued playfully, "the Grunt Sculpin is like _you_!"

Draco laughed along with her. "So I complain a lot, but I'm thinking it still sounds a lot like that She-Weasel of yours."

"Oh, c'mon, Malfoy! She _does not_ hop up and down all the time!"

"No, but she _is_ quite hyper, don't you agree?"

"At least she's not like the Blackeye Goby like _Ron_!" she laughed. "He gets quite possessive, doesn't he?"

"Yes, well, Potter tends to act like the Kelp Bass, always acting like a loner when he really is overly-popular." Draco rolled his eyes, which didn't go unnoticed by Hermione, who giggled at the true statement.

"You're so mean!" She walked over to her bike, still locked up in the bike racks. She unlocked it quickly and expertly, jamming her helmet on her head, just to have it taken off again. "Hey!"

Draco raised an eyebrow at the colors. "Red and gold, eh?" he tsked. "Not quite your color. I think you should go with silver and green next time."

"Oh, shut up!" she snatched the helmet from his hand and put it on her head, firmly buckling it so that it wouldn't be taken away again.

She was about to mount her bike, but Draco stopped her.

"Hey," he said, "are we going to do anything tomorrow?" He secretly hoped so. He was shocked to find himself having fun with the Gryffindor, and a Muggleborn (not Mudblood) at that.

Hermione sighed sarcastically. "Sure, why not?" She got up on her bike, leaving one foot on the ground to balance herself. "I was thinking that we could give some of my friends a visit tomorrow." She smiled at the uneasiness Draco showed. "Don't worry, you'll like them. They're…" she looked around carefully before whispering, "…Muggles, but they know what I am, so they should understand what we talk about. But still, you have to be careful what you say."

"Uggh," Draco moaned, "do we _have_ to go?"

"Hey, you asked!" she shrugged. "Besides, if you like them well enough, you can hang out with _them_ when Harry comes."

He frowned at the thought of being left alone because of his number one foe. "Whatever."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't worry, Malfoy, you'll have fun tomorrow. My friends' family owns an ice cream parlor on the boardwalk." He perked up at this, earning a chuckle from the Gryffindor. "Just meet me…well how about I just meet you at the Sunbeam Inn, since you don't really know where I'm staying anyways, alright?"

Draco shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

Hermione smiled. "Okay, then, I'll see you there at…noon? We can have lunch."

"Alright," Draco smiled, "but this time, don't be late!"

"Shut up!" she rolled her eyes. "Will you find your way back okay?"

"Of course!" He took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "I have a map, remember?"

"Oh, right," Hermione laughed. "So I'll see you?"

"Yeah," he grinned, something Hermione relished (she made a Slytherin _grin_!). "See you."

Hermione let go of the balance her foot held for her bike, and she rode off in the direction of her beach house.

Draco watched her leave, and when she was gone from view, he turned to head back to _his_ destination. For the first time in a long while, he had ended the day on a more happy note. Who knew Hermione Granger would be the one making him feel this way?

As he took step after step walking to the inn, clutching his returned jacket in his hand, he realized that he experienced something he didn't even remember he _could_ experience:

Fun.

* * *

**Disclaimer:  
**Don't own HP or the plot -- first three chapters written by **MysticalSpirits**.

**A/N:**  
This story is adopted from **MysticalSpirits**, but I'll be continuing it from now on, although she'll be putting in her ideas into this fic.


	3. Ice Cream Obsessions

**Summer is Overrated  
**first 3 chapters by Mystical Spirits

* * *

**Chapter 3:  
Ice Cream Obsessions**

**T**he alarm clock beeped annoyingly at exactly nine o'clock in the morning. Hermione groaned, but, being used to the rude awakenings the clock gave her, slammed the top of the device irritatingly.

She had set the alarm as soon as she arrived to her beach house after yesterday's activities with Malfoy, making sure that she wouldn't be late once again. Luckily, Hermione had set the alarm to go off much earlier than she was to meet the Slytherin, allowing her to get some last few minutes of sleep at the same time as her being aware that it was morning.

Of course, she had very good self-control of herself, and like the perfect Gryffindor she worked so hard to become, she ignored the right to sleep in a few more minutes and immediately dragged herself out of bed.

She made her way to the bathroom at the end of the hall, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. As soon as she reached her destination, she closed the door shut to block out as much sunlight as she could, covering herself in a semi-dark shadow, as the blinds in the room were closed as well.

Blinking slowly so that her eyes were, at most, half-open, Hermione grabbed a brush lying out on the sink and automatically detangled her morning bush of hair. Normally, in the past, she would of course never care about her hair first thing in the morning over everything else – not to mention that she was going to have to brush it again later after her shower anyway – but she just couldn't stand trying to freshen up in the morning only to have her hair brush against her face and annoy her. So she made her flyaway bed-hair look as neat as it could and out of her eyes and face before continuing her attempt at getting ready.

Looking at a nearby shelf, Hermione saw a large plastic container of mouthwash. She hated the stuff immensely, for the taste was unbearably strong, but as her parents were dentists, she found she should abide to their wishes.

_Hermione_, she remembered her mother telling her once, _every morning you should be using mouthwash! Not only does it get rid of all that extra plaque, but it also helps your breath smell and feel minty fresh! Brushing your teeth merely _cleans_ your teeth, dear, not make your breath smell _bearable_…! _And then Hermione remembered her going on and on about the many uses and results of mouthwash, not to mention the many different flavors. Unfortunately for her, though, was the fact that whenever she wanted to force herself to _not_ drown her mouth with acid-like liquid, she remembered this particular conversation and argument with her mum, and she ended up rinsing her mouth anyway.

And this morning was like any other. After the disgusting taste in her mouth disappeared, Hermione released the wince on her face and, now more awake than before, walked back to her pink and white room to get any necessary clothes for the day ahead, just to once again head to the bathroom.

Dumping her neatly folded clothes on the long shelf next to the sink, she turned a few shower taps and let the water pour into the tub below it. While letting the water heat up a bit more, Hermione stripped herself of an oversized shirt that Ron let her keep last year and her short pajama shorts. She tested the water by placing her hand, palm-up, into the pouring water. As the temperature was a bit too hot, she automatically lowered it a bit and stepped into the tub.

Allowing her naked body to become completely soaked, Hermione stood and raised her face to the showerhead. Whilst she washed herself as usual, she let her mind wander to Malfoy.

Why was he being so – dare she say it – tolerable? Why was he respecting her conditions that she had set two days ago so well? Why did she invite him for the second day in a row to do something with her? Well, she supposed the answers to all those questions were a bit obvious:

It was all because of his father, and the fact that he had no idea what to do for the rest of the summer by himself.

If it weren't for his father, he wouldn't be civil or nice in the slightest, Hermione was sure. His mother wouldn't have fallen into clear depression, and Malfoy would never have come to this island. Hermione could completely understand why Malfoy was following the rules, for he indeed needed an escort around an area he wasn't all that familiar with, and on that first day, he had found Hermione – although he didn't know it at first – which resulted in the two making an agreement, one that he knew he would have to abide to. And as for why Hermione herself had offered an entertaining day to her most-hated rival, it was also because she had to do her part of the deal herself.

Oh, and there was the fact that yesterday she had quite a fun time with him.

Not that she _meant_ to, though. After all, just because the two had spent an entire day doing their best to respect their truce, it didn't change the history of the past six years at Hogwarts. Malfoy was still, all in all, a jerk, even though it was almost all his father's fault yet again, and Hermione was still her bossy, bookish self.

But then again, it _had_ been an _entire_ day, just the two of them, with limits of what to talk about, as conversations including magic was out of the question in the Muggle world. Hermione could honestly say that she never expected that the Gryffindor and the Slytherin could enjoy each other's company as much as they did – assuming, of course, that Malfoy enjoyed the aquarium.

But, then again, no one even thought that a Gryffindor and Slytherin _would_ spend an entire day together at an _aquarium_. So who was to think that the two couldn't have fun? There was a truce, a hint of politeness because of the events at the beach two days ago, and the fact that there were hours throughout the day when both Hermione and Malfoy eventually eased up and were as nice as they could be in a situation like that. After all, you couldn't expect them both to be polite and merely civil for an _entire day_ without lightening up at all.

_But_, Hermione thought, rinsing her hair, _if all that friendliness occurred in such a short time, what will happen when Harry comes?_ Obviously, only time would tell about what would happen when Harry found out about the Malfoy-filled week she had had, but Hermione couldn't help but feel a bit anxious and nervous of his coming. Knowing him, he might overreact, though not nearly as harshly as she would expect Ron to.

But although Hermione knew Ron well enough to take the news of this week badly, she didn't completely know what Harry's reaction would be. It was strange, her liking him like she did, and being his best friend for all these years, but for some reason, Harry just had that aura of mysteriousness that she just didn't know what to expect exactly. Would he overreact, like Ron? Would he ask a lot of questions, like Hermione would herself? Would he do absolutely nothing?

Only one thing was for sure: he would be concerned. That was one of things Hermione loved so much about him - he was always so caring, even though all the troubles his friends ever had was nothing compared to the problems he himself had had to face. So, yes, he was modest, but even modest people didn't necessarily have to be so…devoted into helping others as Harry was.

So surely he would understand about this whole Malfoy predicament, wouldn't he? He would understand that Malfoy wasn't utterly terrible, or that there were no biting comments (at least in the first two days, so far), or that if, by chance, Hermione had _not_ accepted the truce, the entire month before school started would be a living hell, as they both would have to deal with an angry Slytherin prince.

For some reason, she felt slightly guilty for thinking as though she had no choice but to accept that truce Malfoy had offered her. His asking for a bit of help seemed more sincere than most would think, and Hermione couldn't help but feel uncomfortable by blaming him for the entire week (or the first two days of it, anyway). After all, he simply _asked_ her to help him, not _told_ her to, and that was reason enough to know that she had not had to accept his proposal at all.

Hermione shook her head and pushed the thoughts of her predicament to the back of her mind, finally turning the water taps so that the water stopped completely. She smiled to herself, pleased that she didn't have to shave her legs. As a matter of fact, she had _never_ shaven her legs in her life. Her aunt had told her many years ago, before Hermione had a single dark hair on her legs, that waxing them would be much more useful.

_If you wax your legs instead of shaving them_, she had told her, _you will only have to get them fixed once every few months, rather than at least once every day. Not to mention that those legs of yours will be amazingly smooth and not the least bit bumpy, like mine turned out…_ And then she had ranted about her terrible, coarse legs and explained the reasons to why she had to wear pants every day.

Hermione rolled her eyes inwardly. Her aunt had always been a bit annoying, going on and on like that, but then again, she supposed it ran in the family. And waxing her legs _did_ work magnificently, and it didn't even hurt at all, since she was used to it by now.

Hermione rung out the extra amounts of water in her hair and pushed back the curtains to step on the plush mat on the floor, grabbing a white towel to wrap her body in. She stepped to the sink and wiped part of the large fogged-up mirror above it so she could see her reflection a bit clearer.

She dried her damp hair, which was now no longer bushy because of the water's effect on it. After she dried it enough so that it wouldn't drip too much, she wrapped the towel around her body, just to pick up that brush again to smooth out her hair.

A few minutes later, Hermione was clean and as dry as she could get at the moment. She exited the bathroom in her fitted pale yellow off-the-shoulder top, her white tank top straps showing at the top, and a pair of comfortable jeans. Her hair was still slightly wet, but the natural curls in her hair could already been seen through the dampness.

As Hermione once again entered her room to dump her pajamas from the night before, she glanced at the clock quickly. It wasn't even ten o'clock yet, and her outing with Malfoy wasn't until noon.

Hermione felt a sense of comfort run through her. She had gotten up earlier than necessary, just like usual (save yesterday). She had always liked getting up before she had to. She didn't fancy the idea of sleeping her life away, and these next few hours alone would be pleasant and relaxing, she knew.

She made her way to the kitchen to prepare herself some breakfast, but not before picking up her ribbon on her bookshelf.

She always wore a ribbon in her hair, her friends knew, which was why she loved this particular ribbon especially. Ginny had given it to her just a few months ago, for no apparent reason whatsoever except to make Hermione happy. This ribbon was, of course, magical, and it changed color when it was picked up to whatever color it was longed to be. Yesterday Hermione had worn it white, and today she let the ribbon turn into a pale yellow that matched her top perfectly.

Once she arrived in the kitchen, she paused shortly to tie this special ribbon into her hair expertly. Although she always tied her hair in a ribbon, she still styled her hair differently at times, from a mere ponytail to a messy bun. Today she did her hair half up and half down, causing some of her wavy layered hair in the front to pass her ears and hang to frame her face.

Hermione opened the fridge to look for any type of suitable breakfast. Finding a loaf of bread and some marmalade, she quickly made some toast to eat.

While eating, and for a long while afterwards, she watched TV, only pausing to brush her teeth, and lost track of time. Luckily, though, at the beginning of a series of commercials, she glanced at a clock hanging at the wall to find that it was half an hour until noon.

Smiling to herself for her good instincts of looking at the clock at the perfect time, Hermione slipped on the same white flip flops she had worn the day before and put her house keys and some money into her jeans pocket, not wanting to bother taking a bag with her. She locked the door to the house and left, not taking any of her sporting equipment with her like yesterday, but walking to the Sunbeam Inn instead.

**D**raco paced the lobby of the Sunbeam Inn, glancing at the clock every now and then. Fifteen minutes to go.

Why was he so anxious for Granger to arrive? Well, alright, so he had fun with her yesterday, but he refused to believe that that was the only reason he was waiting for he so intently. He was also anxious, he told himself, because he didn't want to stay in this inn all day doing nothing, but instead, he wanted to go out and enjoy himself, even if it meant spending another whole day with Granger.

It wasn't that he _didn't_ want to spend the day with her; he actually enjoyed her company and was more comfortable than he expected he would be with her. It was just that it seemed…fast.

This was Harry Potter's best friend, a Gryffindor Muggleborn, a girl he never particularly liked much, although he truly didn't hate her, like he told her two days ago on the beach. But it was a bit strange to have such a sudden change in the situation, a change that made two enemies have fun together.

But it was different now, wasn't it? His father was gone. His mum didn't exactly care, to say the least. There were no students or teachers or anyone he knew in the magical world on this island, except for Granger, and soon, Potter. He had, needless to say, some freedom, at least for a while.

So to say that he was excited for going to lunch and to meet some of Granger's friends could be understandable, couldn't it? And, as weird as it was, the dislike for Granger was quickly disappearing. Sure, he still thought that at school she was a bossy know-it-all, but here on this island, just the two of them, he was, needless to say, happy when he spent time with her.

_But this is only for a week anyway_, Draco told himself. _Once this week is up, Granger will go crawling back to Potter, and all this fun will be over._

Somehow this thought didn't make him feel all that better.

He was finally, for the first time in a long while, having fun. He was having a good time. And Granger was the one giving him this experience, strangely. But it didn't matter, did it? Potter would come and this good, happy feeling he got when he was with Granger the past two days would be gone.

And guess who was going to take it away from him? Potter. Not Granger, but Potter. Potter would show up and take another thing away from him. First it was his friendliness, back in the beginning of first year, and recently it was both his parents, although his father being gone was quite a good thing. But now, he was going to take away his only excitement for the entire summer.

So, at this moment, now only five minutes before twelve, Draco was anxious for the Gryffindor to arrive. He might as well make the most of the time he had, right?

Draco looked up, hearing the heavy door of the inn being pulled open. Granger was early. But when he looked up, he was struck numb. Yes, it _was_ indeed Granger that entered through those doors. But her appearance was…well, Draco could only think of one word at the moment to describe it: gorgeous.

_Gorgeous?_ he asked himself. _Never thought I would call her _that!

But he knew that it was the perfect word to describe her as she walked through the doorway, not noticing his reaction to her appearance.

He had never really thought of Granger like this before. Well, yes, he knew she was pretty, and yes, he knew she was _definitely_ a girl, if you caught the drift. But the way she looked just…stunned him, for some reason. He had seen girls who dressed just like this, only their faces had make-up, if they had caught his attention. But Granger had not a singleounce of cosmetics on her face, and he knew there were prettier girls out there, but for some strange reason, all he was able to think of was her. For some reason, her simple appearance, compared to some other girls, was breathtaking.

She gave a small smile and made her way over to him, her elbows out and her thumbs in her front jean pockets.

"Hey," she said casually.

Draco forced himself to move and respond, doing his best to get over her looks. "Hey, yourself," he half smirked, half smiled.

"You ready to go?" she shrugged her shoulders inward a bit. Draco couldn't help but think it was cute.

"Sure am." He walked towards her a few more steps before she turned and walked next to him. Over her shoulder, he spotted the young bellboy at the counter looking at her in a way Draco didn't like. He didn't like it at _all_.

He suddenly felt very possessive of her. He stepped closer to her and placed his hand on her lower back. Like he expected, she was surprised at this. She turned her head to look at him, and, not knowing what to say or do, he muttered softly, "Play along."

She looked confused, but she got the hint that Draco wanted her to allow him to guide her out like this, for some reason currently unknown to her. Over her shoulder, yet again, he sneaked a glance at the bellboy once more, angered that he was still looking at her, although his face showed slight disappointment at where Draco's hand was. All the same, Draco felt that possessive feeling overcome him, and he slid his hand further across Granger's back to her waist to pull her closer to him.

Again, he felt her stiffen a bit before relaxing. Draco wanted to look at the bellboy's face now, but they had passed him already, no longer giving Draco an unsuspicious chance to see.

The short walk to the inn doors seemed to take hours to both Draco and Granger, when it really only took mere seconds. But when they got there, Draco opened a door with his free hand before Granger had a chance to move to open it herself. He led her through first, his hand still holding her close, and he followed, shutting the glass door and leaving the bellboy behind.

Draco's arm was still draped around Granger outside until they walked out of view of the inn and its see-through glass windows. Unfortunately, the moment was over too soon.

"What was _that_ about?" Granger moved out of Draco's grasp and stood in front of him.

For some strange reason, Draco couldn't help but feel…colder. The warmth that Granger gave him was gone. And not only that, but he found himself - dare he say it - _missing_ the feel of her body close to his. His hand ached a bit from letting go of her, as though it couldn't stand the thought of not holding her close.

_Damn_, he thought, _what the hell is _with_ me?_

"Nothing," he said stupidly. He could tell she didn't buy it.

"_Nothing_?" she asked incredulously. Draco was glad she didn't sound angry, but she was definitely shocked and confused. Well, it was understandable, wasn't it? Draco Malfoy putting his arm around his enemy randomly? "You expect me to believe that _that_ was _nothing_?"

"Well…" Draco said, preparing himself to explain as vaguely as he could, "the guy in there."

"What about him?" she asked slowly and cautiously.

"It's nothing," he said, planning to leave it at that, but her look made him continue. "He was eyeing you like a piece of meat. What was I supposed to do?"

Whatever answer she was expecting, Draco was sure it wasn't that. "Ex_cuse_ me?" She paused, her eyes wider than they were a few seconds before.

Draco could understand. He doubted Hermione Granger had received many looks, as mean as it was to say, but her bookish nature, he thought, wasn't one that attracted a lot of attention. Not to mention that Draco Malfoy, _the_ Draco Malfoy, not only held her close, but made an action to _protect her_ from _another guy_.

"Look," he said, getting a bit more awkward, "let's just…let's just go have lunch now, okay?"

To his relief, she closed her gaping mouth and turned to walk to the boardwalk. Draco followed behind her, and the two walked on in silence for a while. That is, until the boardwalk came into clear view.

"Malfoy?" He turned to look at the Gryffindor next to him. "Thanks."

He smiled a genuine smile. "No problem, Granger."

She smiled back, a smile that Draco couldn't help but relish. "You're sweet."

"Yeah, just don't tell anyone, okay?" he shrugged the awkwardness back. He didn't wait all morning just to have a silent day with this girl.

Lucky for him, she laughed. "Oh, of course not! What would the Slytherins say?"

"Well, first they'd say you're crazy. Second, they'd check to make sure hell hasn't frozen over."

She laughed again. Merlin, it was strange how he loved making her laugh.

The rest of the walk to the boardwalk, they joked and teased each other, mostly about each other's school houses. By the time they reached the line at the small burger stand, they were both completely comfortable with each other like they were the day before at the aquarium, the bellboy in the back of their minds.

"Well," Draco teased, "it's not like we're the only rule-breaking students." He did his best to not mention Slytherin or Gryffindor or anything that would hint to the Muggles around them about their world and their kind. "From what I hear, you, Potter, and Weasley tend to cause a bit of trouble."

"A _bit_?" Granger smiled, pretending to be offended. "Why, Malfoy, you should know by now that only the Weasley twins caused more trouble than us!"

Draco scoffed. "How modest of you."

"Indeed," she replied, sarcastically sophisticated. This earned a laugh from Draco. He never remembered a time when a single someone made him laugh so much in such ashort amount of time.

Once at the head of the line, the two both ordered cheeseburgers and French fries, but nothing to drink ("We're going to go to the ice cream place afterwards, anyway!" reminded Granger. "Save your appetite!"). Draco shook his head when he saw Granger dig out some money from her pocket.

"I don't think so, Granger," he said, pushing her hand away. "My treat."

"We didn't agree on that," she protested.

"Well, now we are." He took out his own Muggle money and paid for their lunch.

"What a gentlemen," she laughed as they brought their food to a nearby plastic table with a built-in umbrella above it.

"Only the finest for the lady," he joked as they both took a bite from their burgers.

The two limited their conversation for the next few minutes, hungrily wolfing down half their meal. When Draco had only his chips left in his paper tray, he would pick one up, spilt it in two, lean back, and toss one piece of it up in the air to catch it in his mouth.

He was pleased to see that Granger had taken an interest in his game. He knew she had seen that he caught every single piece in his mouth when he threw it up in the air.

"Malfoy: the genius of chips," she teased, smiling.

"Hey, it takes practice!"

"And, pray tell, what on Earth would you use this…skill for in life?"

"Well…" he smiled, "making you smile, for one." He grinned as she blushed slightly. "Watch." He pulled off the stunt effortlessly again, and he, indeed, got a smile from her. "See? It works."

Draco tried to get her to toss up at least one of her own chips and catch it, but his attempts were unsuccessful. "I'll tell you what," she said, once he was completely done with his meal and she still had half her burger and a few chips left. "I won't abuse my table manners ("Hey!" Draco protested), but I _will_ try _this_!" Draco watched, amused, as she lifted the bun on top of her burger to slip in the rest of her chips on top of the remaining cheese. She picked up the remains of her meal and took a large bite.

"Woohoo!" Draco clapped his hands, grinning and laughing. "Granger: the genius of the chip sandwich!" he mocked her earlier joke.

"Thank you, thank you!" she mock-bowed, still in her seat and looking ridiculously funny, in Draco's opinion.

Who knew that Hermione Granger could be so food creative and weirdly funny? It was…intriguing, to say the least. She wasn't acting at all like the know-it-all, book-smart girl he thought she always was. He liked the fact that she acted completely different than all those other girls, the ones who couldn't stand watching him catch chips in his mouth or let themselves eat anything out of the ordinary, especially in a bite as big as the one Granger had just taken.

He smiled, glancing at the burger. "Hey, wanna give me some of that?"

Granger scoffed. "Are you kidding me?"

He smirked his famous Malfoy smirk, snatching it right out of her hands. "Thank you!" he said sarcastically. He ignored her fake protests and took a huge bite out of it from the same side she took her bite from. _And here I am sharing a cheeseburger with Hermione Granger!_ he thought.

"Well, sheesh," she said, grabbing her food back, "don't eat it all, will you?" She shoved the small remaining piece into her mouth, not getting the least bit messy from her eating.

"Hungry, are you?" he teased her.

"No thanks to you," she swallowed. "Good thing I still have room for loads of ice cream, unlike your stuffed self."

"Stuffed? Whatever gave you _that_ idea?"

"The fact that you ate both yours and my food, of course!" she smiled innocently.

"You can't separate a man from his food, Granger," he motioned to himself and stood up, "which is why I think we should get going." She laughed again and stood up as well.

"You piggy ferret, you!"

Draco gave her a look that clearly said "well, duh!" She laughed once more and threw both their trash away.

"C'mon then, Ferret Boy," she teased. "Let's go get your ice cream."

**H**e really was something.

Draco Malfoy.

Hermione never imagined that he could be so…funny! He made her laugh just as much as Harry and Ron did, and that was certainly saying something. He was comfortable with her, as she was with him. It was strange, but pleasant. She couldn't help but immediately enjoy her time with Malfoy.

However…

What happened in the Sunbeam Inn still nagged her from the back of her mind. Why did Malfoy…well…_care_? Why didn't he flinch at the chance to hold her close? And why did he even try to protect her from that guy in the first place? It wasn't like he was approaching them - Hermione didn't even know which guy he was talking about!

Thelobby wasn't exactly empty when she arrived to pick him up, and she wasn't looking at anyone else anyway. She was intent on getting _him_ to spend the day with _him_, not flirt with whoever she managed to catch the eye of. Not that she planned on catching _anyone's_ eye, though.

At first she didn't believe Malfoy when he told her about the guy in the lobby, but she noticed he looked serious about the matter, and she realized it was true. But why was his plan to get her away from the creep include _touching_ her in general, let alone _hold_ her to him?

"Are we there yet?" Malfoy complained next to her. They were walking toward the other end of the small boardwalk now, to the less crowded area (although there wasn't really too much of a crowd on such a small island as this).

Hermione smiled at a small group of children with candy floss. "Nope, not yet."

There were a few seconds of complete silence between the two. "How about now?"

"Nope."

"Now?"

"_No_!" Hermione laughed at the childish Slytherin next to her.

"Well, why _not_?" he whined.

Hermione snickered and muttered to herself. "Someone's ice cream obsessed…"

"Hell, yes!" was the reply. "Don't you know how amazingly amazing of an amazing invention ice cream is?"

"Malfoy," Hermione raised an eyebrow, "it's just milk and sugar."

"_What?_" he exploded hilariously. "_Just_ milk and sugar? Don't you understand that the milk and sugar are _crucial_ ingredients of this magical concoction?" Hermione's gaze sharpened at the words "magical" and "concoction". Malfoy, however, ignored it. "If there was no ice cream, then…then…then I don't know _what_ we'd do! Imagine if whoever it was who invented it _gave up_ halfway through the making of ice cream? We'd be…we'd all be like Snape!"

Hermione, at this point, cracked up with laughter. Not only did Malfoy sound like a kid who lived and thrived on ice cream, but his insult to Snape, the _head of his house_, and possible _favorite teacher_, was amusingly priceless.

"Now tell me, my dear Malfoy," she smirked to herself, wanting to hear the Slytherin's uncharacteristic ranting again, "what exactly is your favorite flavor of ice cream?"

Malfoy's eyes widened. "My _favorite flavor_? Thousands of different experiments with ice cream and you ask for my _favorite flavor_? Why, there's strawberry, rocky road, French vanilla, chocolate, cookie dough, sherbet--"

He went on and on, naming as many ice cream flavors as he possibly could, which Hermione knew wouldn't end for a long while. He truly _was_ a spoiled little brat who had obviously been surrounded in ice cream since he was little.

Hermione giggled at the thought of Little Malfoy. She imagined this seventeen-year-old next to her who was a head taller than she was as a short five-year-old with the same pale, pointed face, only looking up at her rather than down. She imagined him parading around the house like the spoiled boy he was, marching around with his nose in the air and his mum watching how cute her little boy was.

_Reminds you of a thin and good-looking Dudley Dursley_, Hermione giggled to herself, remembering all the stories Harry had told her and Ron about the Dursley boy. But she stopped herself.

Did _she_, Hermione Granger, just think that _Draco Malfoy_ was _good-looking_? Well, she supposed it wasn't exactly surprising. After all, all the girls in her dorm, including many of her female friends, had always said it, but she herself, too repulsed with the idea, ignored it completely and never thought of it. Now, however, Hermione was able to _see_ the handsome face itself, and she had finally admitted to herself that he wasn't as repulsive, both looks-wise and personality-wise, as she had always thought.

She mentally shook her head. It's not as though she liked Malfoy or anything. After all, she couldn't even say his first name comfortably…at least not yet. He was still her school enemy, and he had always been that same annoying prick, up until recently, anyway.

"…coffee, pistachio, swirl, chocolate mint--" Malfoy continued.

"Alright, alright!" she laughed, shakingone of hisshoulders so he'd shut up.

"Excuse me, Granger," he complained, smiling, "but I was still going, there!"

"Yeah," she stuck her tongue out at him, "and I get it: ice cream is your life."

"Well," he flirted, "there's you too, Granger."

The two laughed, but for some reason they both couldn't explain, they could both feel a twinge of uneasiness on that simple joke.

Hermione continued to lead the way down the boardwalk, conversation between the two once again nonexistent. Until finally--

"Are we there yet?"

"No," Hermione groaned sarcastically, a smile starting to form once again.

"How about now?"

"No."

"Now?"

"Nope."

"Now?"

Hermione looked up, and her eyes caught a sign still a bit of a ways off: _Stevenson's Ice Cream Parlor - Cones of All Shapes and Sizes!_

"Yup! We're here…"

* * *

**Disclaimer:  
**Don't own HP or the plot -- first three chapters written by **MysticalSpirits**.

**A/N:**  
This story is adopted from **MysticalSpirits**, but I'll be continuing it from now on, although she'll be putting in her ideas into this fic.


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